Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead or any of it's characters.
Warning: Contains sexual scenes and sexual violence.
Chapter one.
They didn't want her in the group. She knew it. They knew it. Yet, she was valuable. Not so much in the sense that they needed her, much more in the sense she was the only one that would do everything for them. She'd go outside, the desolate outside, where the grass was over grown, animals had turned wild, and the walkers were there. She'd run the streets for them, searching for food, searching for medicine and water. Just to find the last shreds of something, something that could look after all six of them, all six of the men. Something that they needed much more than more people in their little group, they need stuff to survive. Valentine make herself useful by finding this stuff. Valentine knew her group liked to keep things small. In fact, she knew her group had killed people in the past. People that weren't useful for anything, except getting in the way. They wouldn't even hesitate to shoot. They kept the women. They loved the women. Valentine grunted in disgust, she hated them. Men were pigs. It was the end of the world and all they could think about was getting laid. All she could think of was ways to accidentally kill everyone in her group, but she knew that'd never work out. She'd never have time to kill them all in one day, and it'd start to look odd if they went missing one by one.
Non of them would have dared to lay one hand on her though, if she stayed quiet, which is what she tended to do. She would've guessed she was lucky, she wasn't, not at all, she had spent alot of time trying to perfect acting male, swearing like them. She knew if they found out, they'd do unthinkable things to her, horrible, horrible things. She knew this. That's why she tried to make her voice deep, kept her dirty blonde hair short, and wore baggy clothes. She never had time to shave, her armpits or legs, so she didn't have to worry about being too…un-hairy, and not well, male enough. She didn't have much to hide, anywho. Being underweight because of not being able to eat had gotten rid of any breast and curves she may of possessed before, even though she still had small lumps of breast, they were nothing like they used to be. They were at least a C cup before. Before this had started. Before the god damned un-dead had took over America. Maybe even the whole world.
She didn't hope anymore. She didn't hope that somewhere there would be a safe haven. She knew better. Hope gets you killed. Like it had gotten the other men killed. Like it had gotten the other women killed. The spark in their eye as they looked around in hopes that somebody would help them. That somebody would save them, and then the look of sheer horror when the bullet came towards them. Nobody would save them, maybe the knew that already but it was hope, hope that ruined it. Maybe they realized that as the finger pressed down on the trigger and shot them through the head. Maybe, they were in heaven, looking down from above. Of course, Valentine didn't believe that bullshit. If God what going to save them he would of already.
She tried not to flinch, as they got shot. She tried not to show emotion, to be like them the men, but every time she wanted to step in front of the bullet. To save them. To give them hope that they wanted but she couldn't. She was selfish. She wanted to live. She wanted to thrive, to live a life in this godforsaken world. To sit it out, she knew this was stupid. It was false. She was going to die here, and she knew it. So why would she still here? Because they bullied her. Especially when she won't touch the women. She doesn't want them. She doesn't want to hurt them, to use them. She didn't want to give them the satisfaction of finding out she was a girl. That she was slowly poisoning them in their food. No, she didn't want them to know. She was going to save the girls, because she knew if she was found out she was a girl, they'd treat her like one.
She had never killed one of the girls though. That was something she was proud of. She hadn't saved them, or helped them, but she had never killed one. Not even when they tried to force her. Not even when the unthinkable happened. When her defenses slipped down. When she made a mistake.
"Touch her! Do it!" Thomas, the ring leader, shouted at Valentine, holding the crying woman by her wrists with his long, greasy fingers. She winced at his shouting. "Thomas, I don't want to," She told him, frowning. "I'm not going to lay a hand on her," Thomas smirked at this, a quick laugh left his lips. "Vince, you don't seem to understand. It wasn't a request. It was an order. Prove yourself. I want you to take her, right now in front of me." The young girl's eyes widened, and she shook her head repeatedly, trying to pull away from him. "Stop moving, you fucking whore!" He demanded, the girl whimpered. "I…I can't, Thomas," He raised an eyebrow at her, sneering.
"And why not, boy?" He yelled. "Have you got something to hide? Are you a queer?" He asked an eyebrow still raised. Valentine shook her head quickly. "No, that's not it, I just don't want to, okay?" She told him, her voice rising at the end making her sound more feminine. "You're hiding something, are you?"
"I said I'm not!
"Strip, right now," Valentines face dropped. She bit her lip and reached for the ends of her shirt. This was it, wasn't it? It was the end of her. He was going to find out, and she knew this was it. She knew that she was completely, and utterly screwed. How was she so stupid? She lifted her shirt over her head. She wasn't wearing a bra, but you could tell there were small breasts there. Small and perky, shit, she hated this. She hated the way he looked at her, when he saw her breasts.
"I knew it," He threw the other girl to the floor, her head smashed against the floor, cleanly knocking her out, maybe even killing her. "You're a fucking girl, you dirty little liar," Valentine was numb. She couldn't take this anymore. What had she done? Why didn't she just refuse to take her shirt off? Would've that caused more trouble? Probably. "Pants off, too, and panties," he smirked. Was he doing this to her? "Do it, bitch!" He screamed at her, walking towards her and pulling them down for her, while she just stood there. "Please, Thomas, don't do this, you don't want this."
"Oh, but I do, I really do," Suddenly, she was pinned against the wall. "Beg for me, scream for me, bitch," Valentine didn't say anything. She just stood there. She didn't want this, No, No, No. "Beg for me, bitch!" He slapped her around the mouth, splitting her lip.
"Please, don't do this to me," He slipped his hand between her legs. She started to struggle, but his weight was on top of hers. He unzipped his jeans and pulled out his member. "No, no, please no!" She screamed at him, still struggling under the weight of his body. He smacked her. "Fucking stop moving, you bitch." She stopped and he pulled open her legs roughly, keeping a good hold on her. "How'd you like this you fucking whore?" He thrust into her violently, not giving her time to move. She screamed out in pain, trying to kick out at him, but he was too powerful. "Thomas stop, please, fucking stop!" He kept'd thrusting into her, groaning as he did. Her eyes watered and she bit her lip, giving up. He grabbed her breasts roughly and bit into them. She screamed out in pain. She finally began to cry.
He dumped her naked on her the dusty, stone floor, she winced in pain. They were around a seven miles away from camp. It was too far to walk in a state like hers. She didn't even know where she was herself. Thomas had just been driving with no aim. He just wanted to get rid of the bitch. "What should I say, eh?" He kicked her stomach roughly. All her thighs were bruised and bleeding, her face had taken an equal amount of beating. Her lip was burst, blood was streaming from her mouth. Her breasts were bitten and bruised, and she had bruise hand marks on her stomach. "Should I tell them I went out on a trip with you, and a walker bit you?" He kicked her again. "Should I say you went feral and tried to kill me, so I had to shoot back?" He bent down next to her, before spitting in her face. "I hope you die out here. In fact, I know you'll die out here. There's nobody else out there, you'll suffer." He told her before standing up. He took one last look down at her. "You really are a waste of space, Vin- whatever your fucking name is." And then he was gone.
Valentine was alone. She was beat. She was tired. She was dirty, no. She was fucking filthy and that's how she felt. Her hair was plastered to her forehead with sweat and other should have known it was bound to happen. She should have known it was stupid to pretend to be a guy. She curled up into a ball wrapping her arms around her legs. Why was this happening to her? No. She had to snap out of this. She was currently naked and lying in the middle of a road that could potentially be a death zone. She got onto her knees, wincing at the pain in her muscles as she stood up. She started to hobble forward. It was so hot. The sun was scorching her. If she didn't die of thirst, or hunger. She'd die of sunstroke.
She followed the road around, walking and walking for what seemed to be hours, it was hours. 3 hours. It was starting to get dark. She had to keep walking. If she didn't, she'd die. Sweat poured down her body. She couldn't breathe properly, her mouth was incredibly dry, all the saliva had left her body. Her chest heaved up and down. "I…need a break." and then she collapsed to the floor. Her chest heaving violently, was this heat stroke? As she fell, her head smacked against the floor. She cried out in pain. "Fuck." She muttered. She closed her eyes, her vision becoming clouded. Was this the end? Of course it was.
"Is…she alive?" Valentine's eye's snapped open she was faced with a Korean boy, before her eyes rolled into her head and she fainted.
Authors Note: Please review and rate ! :D Thank-you to my lovely Kirby for Beta-ing this for me! C: